


a half-empty bottle of wine

by PinkHydrangea



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, but also a dash of lowkey angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-01 03:39:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12147831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkHydrangea/pseuds/PinkHydrangea
Summary: There's not a lot to eat with the war, but they scrounge up some bread, half-a-bottle of wine, and sit by the fireplace. They ignore the threat looming over their home for as long as they can.





	a half-empty bottle of wine

**Author's Note:**

> made [this post on my blog](http://witchnyx.tumblr.com/post/165461099352/zeke-and-tatiana-trying-to-stay-romantic-and-mushy), now im Emo, also this isn't edited bc i have to study so im sorry if it's not top quality and polished BUT HAD TO GET IT OUT OF MY SYSTEM

Getting home before Tatiana isn’t easy, because Jerome tries to keep Zeke for as long as he can every single day. It’s always, “Oh, Ezekiel, I need inventory on this,” or, “Check up on the soldiers, would you?,” and, “I haven’t the time to do this paperwork, I need you to do it.”

Jerome’s got plenty of time to do plenty of things, but he likes making Zeke do them.

Zeke is always out as soon as he can be, though, pulling his coat along as he goes through the halls and out to the stables, not even bothering to pause for a moment. Nobody ever gets in his way unless absolutely necessary when he leaves, because they know he’s in the greatest hurry. While he saddles up Ephraim, he wonders if he’s got time to rush by the market and get something nice, like a bottle of wine or an armful of flowers. If he wants to get home before her, though, he doesn’t. Besides that, things are expensive lately.

There’s really no big deal in getting back before Tatiana, except that Zeke loves the sight of her coming through the door and making herself at home. He loves how she comes in and the way she says, “I’m home!” He loves how she slips off her shoes before coming in any further. He loves the happy song she hums as she goes into the kitchen to find something to make for dinner. He loves after little conceivable thing about Tatiana, and getting home before her to witness them is a treat, especially in these hard times.

He gives Ephraim to a stable hand when he gets back to the village, and hurries back to the house. He opens the door, takes a glance around, and waits five seconds. When there is no cheery call of his name or a running hug or anything of the sort, he’s assured that he’s made it back before her.

Zeke gives a sigh and shrugs off his coat, loosens his cravat, and heads into the bedroom. He changes out of his stifling uniform, puts it away neatly, and slips into simple trousers and a loose shirt, something far more comfortable for the evening. He makes sure the bedroom is clean and in order, so Tatiana doesn’t have to fuss over it later, and leaves.

They have a collection of spare blankets and pillows in the hallway closet, extra things in the unlikely case of guests or an emergency, but Zeke tends to use them for a different purpose. It’s a more useful purpose, he thinks, and it’s better than letting them sit in a musty closet for months on end. He grabs an armful, stacking them high and trying to balance them perfectly, and heads into the living room. He drops them on the floor, leaving them for later.

It’s cold outside, and he decides that there should probably be a fire waiting for Tatiana when she comes home. They have a stack of chopped firewood in the corner, far from any spare ember the fireplace snaps out, and he takes a couple of logs off of the top. Zeke gets the fire going easily with a box of matches sitting on the mantle. It only takes one quick strike across the surface of the box to light one, and he tosses it into the brittle wood and lets it start burning.

He listens, while he moves about the house, for any sound of Tatiana. He’s not quite ready for her to get home yet, and is relieved when there’s no squeak of the door’s hinges (he reminds himself, he has to oil those later), or any glimpse of her through the kitchen’s window. He takes his time with the pile of pillows and blankets, making sure they are carefully placed in front of the fire. A few pillows, then a quilt tossed over them, and then some more pillows. When he’s done, he steps back, and makes sure that the nest has enough space to comfortably fit both of them. Of course, they aren’t separate for long, because Tatiana normally rolls over to sleep on his chest.

Zeke checks the kitchen for any sort of food, and he comes up with an already-opened bottle of pomegranate wine and a loaf of bread, freshly made that morning. A little more desperate scrounging, shifting through bare cabinets and shelves, and he also manages to scrape up some cured meat. It’s not a full meal, but it’ll be filling enough. The cupboards are pretty scarce, anyway, what with the start of the war and the need to conserve as much food as possible, or else send it to the frontlines.

He’s finishing cutting the bread and meat into slices when the door opens, and his head snaps up instantly. Tatiana is wrapped up in a warm coat and fluffy scarf, and she sighs as she slips the wool from around her neck. There is a basket in her hands, and she sets it down by her feet. The tip of her nose is red from the cold, and she holds her hands up to her face, puffing into her mittens, in one last attempt at quickly warming herself up.

Her eyes glance around the fire, the nest, and then she looks over to the kitchen. She smiles, relaxed and happy, and forgets to take off her shoes before she comes to give him a kiss. The wool of her mittens are a little chill as she holds them against his face, and her lips are as well, but he doesn’t mind. He leans down, not taking his hands off the knife and the loaf of bread, and returns the affection.

“You’re home early.” She pulls her hands away and pulls off the mittens, sets them on the kitchen table, and then starts unbuttoning her coat. “What a treat.”

He likes coming home early now, because he doesn’t know when he’s going to suddenly get much busier with war efforts, and not be able to come home for days on end. He wants to soak up this quiet domesticity now, the sight of Tatiana just taking off her coat and her boots, fluffing her hair up and smoothing her skirts down, while the crackling of the fire provides an ambient background noise.

“It wasn’t easy,” he replies. “Jerome had at least ten reports for me to review today, all of them unnecessary.”

“Hmmm.” She comes up behind him and reaches for a slice of the meat. “I’m too tired to cook. This is nice.”

“It’s all we have,” he says sheepishly. “I looked for more, but-”

“It’ll be fine,” Tatiana insists. “I’ll go to the market tomorrow and try to get some things. That does look like the last of our wine, though. The price is gonna shoot up really soon. Are you sure you want it tonight?”

“It’s already open. It’ll lose some of the flavor if we don’t have it soon.” He looks to the basket she has left by the door, then goes back to what he is doing. “What’s that you have?”

“Oh!” Tatiana takes her coat and scarf to the door, hangs them, and then picks up the basket. There’s excitement washing off of her, and she sets the basket on the counter. “We had a traveler come by the church today with a sick child. She gave us these as payment for treatment, even though we told her we didn’t need it.”

The basket, when she moves aside the cover, contains a few pears, some apples, a couple of oranges, and a single pomegranate.

“That’s quite a haul,” he marvels. “I wonder how she got her hands on them.”

“Who knows, but it’s food on our table now.” Tatiana pauses, then looks up at Zeke, a guilty look on her face. “Did that sound mean? Or uncaring?”

“No,” he assures. “You’re right.”

“We can cut up these pears and put a little sugar on them,” she suggests. “For dessert?”

Zeke sets the meat and bread on a plate, and goes to the cabinet for a couple of wine glasses. “I was planning on a different kind of dessert.”

“Did you find something else in the cabinets?” she asks. “What-”

He cuts her off with a kiss, a quick little press of their lips, and she blinks when he goes back to getting the glasses. Her face is a vivid pink, and he smiles, pleased with himself.

“You’re an awful tease,” she scolds. “I’ll eat all the fruit myself.”

“You owe me a kiss in exchange for each piece you eat without me,” he replies. “But I don’t think you’ll exactly mind that arrangement, now will you?”

They’re by the fire soon after, nestled together in the quilts and pillows, and listening to the crackle of the fire. The meal they share off the single plate is scant, and Zeke lets Tatiana eat most of it. There’s food for him at the base, and more than once, he’s considered trying to sneak some of it home to her. It’s unlawful and immoral, however, so no matter how little food there is in the house, he won’t steal. He won’t be like Jerome, whom he spots swiping a bottle of wine quite often.

There’s little to eat for everyone. Zeke imagines that, towards the center of the country, things aren’t quite so pressed. Out here, however, it’s hard to get resources in tough times. It’s close to the border, and merchants stop traveling by. There are bandits and thugs, and a trip to the market in the next town over is risky. It’s cold, almost the middle of winter, and there’s no way to grow most crops in the village. What they can harvest are scant grains, barely enough to make black bread with, and everyone is hungry.

Tatiana shifts against him as she reaches for her glass of wine, and she takes a long drink of it while she stares into the fire. She puts it back down and presses closer against him, taking a blanket and putting it over them.

“How’s work?” she asks hesitantly.

Zeke frowns into his own wine glass and puts it aside. He brushes the hair from her face and chides, “We said we would not discuss that at home. This is a safe haven. We don’t think about the war here.”

Tatiana’s fingers dig into his chest, and she snaps, “I’m worried.”

Zeke is quiet, and she whispers, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you worried?” he asks.

She leans her head against him, and listens to the fire crackling before saying, “The woman who came by told us that the Zofians drove off Lord Berkut. She said that the Zofian Deliverance is marching on Rigel, and they’ll be here in two, maybe three months.”

He slumps into the nest and sighs as he lightly scratches her scalp. She hums against him, her eyes drifting shut, and she reminds him of an affectionate kitten in that moment. She’s sweet, and soft, and he doesn’t want to tell her anything bad, but…

“That’s true. The Deliverance apparently picked up a new leader, who rallied his men quite well. They’re marching on Chancellor Desaix now, and after that… If not stopped, I’ve no doubt they’ll invade Rigel.”

Tatiana buries her face in his chest, and he feels her shaking.

“What will they do to us? Everyone here? We’re one of the only villages on the border, right outside the sluice gate.”

His heart twists at the tremble in her voice. “I don’t know. Our countries are so separated, I’m not sure what manner of people the Zofians are.”

He wraps his arms around her shoulders, squeezing her tight. He doesn’t know what kind of people the Zofian soldiers are. Are they the type to leave innocent civilians alone? Or are they the types to pillage, murder, and rape while on their warpaths? He doesn’t have a strong urge to fight the Zofians at all, though the thought of testing himself against the legendary Knights of Zofia isn’t unappealing. But at the cost of his life, Tatiana’s prosperity? Nothing makes him more anxious.

He thinks of what an enemy army can do in a simple village like this one, and he feels anger.

“You’re squeezing me,” comes her muffled voice against his chest. “You’re gonna crush me.”

Zeke lets go of her immediately. “I’m sorry.”

Tatiana readjusts and slips her hand up and over his chest to drape it over his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I know we said we wouldn’t talk about that stuff at home, but-” She gives a heaving sigh. “We can’t stay all cozy by the fire forever.”

The sentiment of that statement chills his bones, because he doesn’t want Tatiana to be anything but cozy by the fire. She shouldn’t have to worry about hostile soldiers marching on her country, murdering her countrymen. She shouldn’t have to worry about being hungry every night.

Zeke rubs her shoulders and sighs. “What if I took you away?”

Her head tilts up, and she regards him with confusion. “What?”

“Living here is hard right now. There’s almost no food, no comfort, no peace. You spend all of your day in the church, mixing medicine to send to the frontlines. I don’t like this kind of life for you.” It sounds like he’s patronizing her perhaps, maybe like he’s treating her like a little girl. Maybe she’ll get mad at him, but he doesn’t care.

“It’s hard,” she agrees. “Terrors have gotten worse. Sometimes I have to sit outside the village to fight them back. I’m one of the only ones who knows Seraphim, after all.”

“So what if I took you away?” he repeats. “To the capital. Emperor Rudolf is always saying that I’m welcome there, and I’m sure he could find some room for you. I’m sure of it. We’d be separated for a while, since I’m still stationed here, but-”

“That’s nonsense.” Tatiana reaches for her wine and finishes what is in the glass. “I’m not leaving.”

“Tatiana, think clearly.” He picks up the bottle of wine behind them and pours the rest into her glass. “You could have relative comfort there.”

“You’re not thinking clearly,” she shoots back. “You’re absolutely biased! Taking me away to live in a castle while you stay here? That’s ridiculous. You’re my only family, and I won’t abandon you. I don’t care if I have to live off scraps for a few more months, and work myself to the bone every day, or if I have to live in constant terror!”

“Tanechka-”

“I’m staying right where I am,” she insists. “That’s the end of this discussion.”

She’s mad, he knows. She sets the wine glass away and rolls over off of him, curling up on the pile of pillows and quilts by herself. She even puts a pillow atop her head when he tries to say her name, and he feels guilty for having insulted her.

Zeke leans in towards her. “Tanechka.”

Tatiana pushes the pillow down harder against her head.

“Don’t be childish. I want to say I’m sorry.”

She puts the pillow down and glares at him over her shoulder. “I’m not weak-willed. It’s insulting that you think I’m not strong enough to tough this out.”

Zeke sighs. He reaches over and rubs her arm. “I didn’t mean to imply that, and I’m sorry that that’s how it came out. I won’t suggest it again.”

She’s quiet.

“I just don’t want you to be in danger,” he says. “But you’re right. It’s completely biased of me to want to tuck you away from danger, and not anyone else.”

“If I went away, who would you come home to?”

Zeke is taken aback, and removes his hand from her.

Tatiana rolls over, a little pout on her lips. “I mean, the house would be empty.” Her expression grows anxious. “Wouldn’t you care? Wouldn’t that make you at least a little bit sad? D-do you really not mind that I would be gone?”

“Of course I would mind,” he says immediately. “There’s nothing good about coming home to an empty house. But, if you were to be safe, then-”

“I’ll be fine here.” Her voice is soft, and she finally rolls over to face him again. Her fingers are gentle as they push a strand of hair out of his face. “There’s no safer place for me than wherever you are.”

“I see.” Zeke moves a little closer to her, dipping his face into the crook of her neck. “I’ll just have to keep you close. Safe and sound.”

Tatiana smiles and rubs the back of his neck as he kisses her bare skin. “Perhaps so.”

They stop the talk of the war, the fighting, the threat looming over their home. It’s getting late, and the fire is smoldering out, even though they try to keep it going for a while longer. They don’t go to bed to sleep that night, and instead treat each other to kisses, gentle touches on bare skin, atop the nest of blankets.


End file.
